A Memory From The Road

One year, after spending five months travelling the back-roads of Mexico avoiding, as much as possible, the gringo dominated areas, Norma and I were heading back home. We were always in a hurry at this point because as usual, we had pushed the time we were allowed to be out of Canada and had only a couple of weeks to get home.

We were in a toll booth / rest area /  snack bar stop on the quota road and I was stretching my legs a little. I walked past an ambulance parked at the curb with the driver/paramedic leaning on his hood eating an ice cream bar. As I passed he said something to me. My brain automatically went into translate mode as I struggled to understand what he had said. I caught a couple of words but they did not seem to connect together or make any sense. I stopped and looked at him, asking him to repeat it which he did. Now I was in a bit of a panic! I did not understand him. Suddenly I realized what I was hearing! He was speaking English!! He was asking me how we enjoyed Mexico and how long had we been there. We had a long conversation with hin wanting to know everything. Where had we been, how long, were we going to come back, everything. He asked how safe we felt and I gave him the answer we always gave... we feel much safer in Mexico than we do in the US and always have. He was a very interesting guy, studying to become a doctor and was taking the chance to practice his English. I had been away from English for so long that it sounded like a foreigh language!